Season's Tidings
Title: Season's Tidings
Characters/Pairings: Rude/Tseng
Rating: R
Word Count: 345
Series: None
Author's Notes: it's like polite smut. or as cristal said " it's smut that almost makes you feel guilty for thinking it's smutty" who, by the way did a mini-beta on it for me! much love neechan! and cross posted like whoa.
Their noises were soft and hushed but still audible - grunts, groans and whimpered pleadings or demands, depending on who the words came from.
The air conditioner was on and left goose bumps on heated sweaty skin, bruised by fingers digging in to find purchase during a thrust - nothing a potion wouldn't cure. Not that either of them would use it, keeping the bruises, the bite marks and other scratches as hidden memento trophies until the body healed them.
So close they both were, panting and soft cries getting just a bit louder. Loud enough to make cleaning staff pause and consider what they heard and if it really did come from that office before continuing with their work.
Nails dug into skin and the wooden desk beneath them while their back bowed and a sensual mouth dropped open in a silent scream, body tightening around the other. Their bodies were covered in streaks of pearly come from the smaller man's orgasm.
Again, fingers dug into the flesh at the hip effectively pinning the smaller frame down as the bigger man thrust hard, orgasm riding through his body almost violently. The noise given up was something that sounded like a soft musical cry, an intone for the lover in his grasp as his body dealt out it's last paroxysm of lust.
The two men separated and tidied themselves up and naught a word was spoken during that or during their redressing. It wasn't until their clothes were back in place and they stood in their normal positions with the desk between them.
Expressions back to almost normal; Tseng handed over Rude's glasses with a small smirk - a small bend in the frames caused by one of their body’s, which the muscled man promptly fixed.
Tseng looked as though he would ask something but words were halted on his tongue when Rude spoke.
"Season's Tidings, sir."
A small smile that tugged at the Field Leader's lips was only witnessed by Rude's retreating back - a clothed but well scratched up back, and the closing of his office door.
Characters/Pairings: Rude/Tseng
Rating: R
Word Count: 345
Series: None
Author's Notes: it's like polite smut. or as cristal said " it's smut that almost makes you feel guilty for thinking it's smutty" who, by the way did a mini-beta on it for me! much love neechan! and cross posted like whoa.
Their noises were soft and hushed but still audible - grunts, groans and whimpered pleadings or demands, depending on who the words came from.
The air conditioner was on and left goose bumps on heated sweaty skin, bruised by fingers digging in to find purchase during a thrust - nothing a potion wouldn't cure. Not that either of them would use it, keeping the bruises, the bite marks and other scratches as hidden memento trophies until the body healed them.
So close they both were, panting and soft cries getting just a bit louder. Loud enough to make cleaning staff pause and consider what they heard and if it really did come from that office before continuing with their work.
Nails dug into skin and the wooden desk beneath them while their back bowed and a sensual mouth dropped open in a silent scream, body tightening around the other. Their bodies were covered in streaks of pearly come from the smaller man's orgasm.
Again, fingers dug into the flesh at the hip effectively pinning the smaller frame down as the bigger man thrust hard, orgasm riding through his body almost violently. The noise given up was something that sounded like a soft musical cry, an intone for the lover in his grasp as his body dealt out it's last paroxysm of lust.
The two men separated and tidied themselves up and naught a word was spoken during that or during their redressing. It wasn't until their clothes were back in place and they stood in their normal positions with the desk between them.
Expressions back to almost normal; Tseng handed over Rude's glasses with a small smirk - a small bend in the frames caused by one of their body’s, which the muscled man promptly fixed.
Tseng looked as though he would ask something but words were halted on his tongue when Rude spoke.
"Season's Tidings, sir."
A small smile that tugged at the Field Leader's lips was only witnessed by Rude's retreating back - a clothed but well scratched up back, and the closing of his office door.